


Wedded and Bedded?

by kittykatknits



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Jon got in his cups, Post-Canon, Smut, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatknits/pseuds/kittykatknits
Summary: From a prompt on Tumblr:  I can't help myself, I need fluffly fics so much: so I'd like the morning after their wedding in show verse (the WW are gone for good and the North is independent)-OR-What happens the morning after Jon gets in his cups?





	Wedded and Bedded?

Jon peered through half-lidded eyes before promptly closing them to shut away the harsh light of morning. His throat was parched. He reached out blindly, his hand coming to rest on the gentle slope of warm flesh before his palm slid from Sansa’s hip to her belly. Jon gave a pleased smile as his fingers grazed the red curls between her legs.

He opened his eyes, fully this time, and was greeted with the loveliest sight, a pert nipple lay before him, a tantalizing shade of rose pink. Jon drew himself up, ready to feast on his new wife once more when a groan escaped him.

He heard a giggle from above. “Is my husband unwell?”

“Forgive me, I may have been a bit more in my cups last night than I meant.” His voice was dry and raspy.

“A bit more, indeed,” she said teasingly. “You had great cause to celebrate.”

Jon supposed he did. After all they had endured, he never intended for either of them to leave the north again. The south could go to rot for all he cared. “Wedded and bedded.” He rested his head against her, letting his finger graze her nipple. “Beautiful.”

She laughed. “Wedded.” Sansa pulled herself up so she sat peering down at him. Her hair was loose and still mussed from sleep. She was dressed in only her name day suit, her body on display for him. “Did you enjoy our nuptials?” Sansa laughed once more. Jon felt as if he was the object of some great jape he did not understand.

He squeezed one of her breasts. “You speak as if we are done. I don’t intend for either of us to leave these bed chambers today.” Jon sat up, facing her, but it only caused his head to begin throbbing. “I feel as if someone is shooting daggers at me.” He rubbed his brow.

“I spoke with Maester Wolkan last night about preparing you an herbal tea that should help.” Sansa left him alone in the bed to stand at its side. “A maid brought in some food and a pitcher of water while you were still sleeping. No ale.” She turned, picking a robe up where it had fallen the night before.

“Leave it off. I want to look on you.” Jon leaned back against the pillows, relishing the sight of his wife as she walked through their chambers.

“I made sure a tray was prepared for us so we could stay abed, if you wished. Eat, it will help your aching head.” Sansa placed a tray by his side before climbing back on the bed. She sat so half of her hair was illuminated by the morning sun, turning it the color of an oak leaf in the autumn.

Jon grabbed her hand, pulling it close to rub at his whiskers. “I was frightened we would never have this chance.” He’d marched north, leaving her with nothing but a promise.

“I never doubted it.” She gave him a soft smile, full of devotion as her hand cupped his chin. “Eat now, you had little enough last night.”

Jon looked down at the tray she’d set beside him. The food was still warm, sweet bread, fresh baked ham, butter, honey, roasted potatoes, and winter berries. He licked his lips as his stomach began to rumble. “What did we serve for supper last night? I can’t remember.”

“Can you not? It was a grand feast but you liked the ale most of all, I think.” She gave him a mischievous smile, leaving Jon with the same lingering suspicion of missing a jape once more.

“I always did like a good northern ale.” He bit into the food, quickly filling his mouth with ham and bread slathered in honey.

Sansa slowly nibbled at the berries, content to watch him eat. “Don’t forget the tea.”

Jon took a sip before grimacing. “It’s bitter.” Even so, he drank it all down before returning to eat. “I was hungry,” he said with his mouth full of food. Jon quickly swallowed before apologizing.

“Don’t be sorry, after last night, you need food. I was very impressed with your talents.”

He let himself enjoy the compliment. “Good, you can expect more as soon we finish eating.”

Sansa covered her mouth before looking away from him, clearly trying to contain her laughter. She failed. “Oh, I dearly hope so. Will my lord husband begin with The Bear and the Maiden Fair again? Or perhaps a northern song to start?”

Jon froze as he struggled to finish his bite of food. “What!?!” he squawked.

“Your singing was so lovely, Jon. Why have you never shared it with me before?”

“What?!?!”

Sansa fell back against the bed, holding her belly, as shrieks of amusement escaped her. “You sang for the hall during our wedding feast. Don’t you remember?” She began to wipe at her eyes.

“I did no such thing. Lies, all of it. Vile lies, wife.” At least, Jon dearly hoped so.

“It’s no lie. You sang with Lord Royce and many others. Lord Glover bid me tell you he never met a finer dancing partner.”

“I don’t dance, most certainly not with Lord Glover.”

“After several cups of ale, you dance often and with everyone,” she chuckled. It was clear Sansa was enjoying herself. Jon was not.

“Please tell me this is some great jest,” he begged.

“No, I’m so sorry, but it isn’t. What do you remember?”

Jon closed his eyes. “Our marriage, we exchanged vows in the godswood. Then the wedding feast. I remember undressing you here in our bedchamber.” The night was mostly a blur, he did, however, clearly remember filling his cup several times.

“My poor Jon,” she said pityingly. “You entertained the entire hall, bringing so much joy to our bannerman.”

He stared at her aghast. “Why didn’t you stop me? I may not have your gift with the social graces but even I know how important it is to convey the proper image. The king in the north dancing and singing for his banner men, what does that say of me, Sansa?”

“Why would I stop it? You were so happy to perform for your people, I could not bring myself to say anything.” She wiped her eyes, trying to grow serious. “Besides, after everything, our people needed it. Last night was more than a wedding feast.”

He rubbed his eyes, sighing. “What about after?” He waved his hand, indicating their bed. “I know I undressed you.” Jon had a very clear memory of licking at her breasts.

“Tormund and Brienne carried you to our rooms. I tried to do it myself, but you were too heavy.” Sansa at least managed to look a bit sheepish at this.

Jon felt his neck and cheeks turn red from embarrassment. “Please tell me no one saw this.”

Her expression grew contrite. She took his hand, stroking his palm in an effort to provide comfort. “I’m sorry. Everyone in the hall witnessed it. And all of our household.”

“But, I remember undressing you. Your gown was grey silk, I remember pulling at the ties.”

“You did undress me.” She nodded encouragingly. “After, you touched me…” She trailed off, not continuing her sentence.

Jon was not sure if he wanted her too. “What happened after?”

“You fell back onto the bed and promptly began snoring. Loudly.”

“I snored.” He was not sure what to make of her story.

“Please don’t let it upset you. It happens to men when they get too far into their cups,” she pleaded.

“I’m not most men.”

“You were so happy last night, I couldn’t bring myself to stop you.”

Jon did not have a response. “I need to visit the privy.” He left the bed and entered the attached privy. Jon returned to their rooms to see the food tray gone. Sansa had brushed her hair and donned a robe, sitting on their bed with her legs crossed. He recognized the expression she wore. It was rarely seen now, but, even so, glimpses of it would make an appearance every so often. “I should not have behaved so. You deserved better.”

Relief fell over her. “Marrying you is all I wanted.”

“That’s all I ever wanted.” He approached, coming to sit so they faced one another. He’d spoken the truth. Jon often though on the day Bran shared the story of his birth. The first night, all of the Starks slept in his room to provide comfort to one another. The next, Jon slept in Sansa’s chambers for the first time. “I wed you.”

“You did.” Sansa’s smile was a shy one.

“But I did not bed you.”  

“No.”

“Will you allow me to correct my mistake?” Jon made no move to touch her, he always waited to be granted permission before doing so.

“Why do you think I arranged for a morning meal in our rooms? But, first, will you sing for me again?” Sansa chuckled at his stricken expression. “Or, perhaps, you could make me sing?”

“I’m eager to do as my wife bids me.” Jon pulled at the loose tie of her robe, letting it gape open so he could see the flesh hidden underneath. “Lovely,” he breathed before palming one breast and squeezing. Jon smiled to himself at her quiet hitch of breath.

Sansa pulled her arms free of the garment, letting it fall behind her. “Your wife bids you to kiss her.”

He was growing hard. “I had hopes for more than a bit of kissing.”

“An affectionate embrace perhaps?”

Jon growled before leaping at her, their lips coming together. He could still taste the sweet berries she’d eaten. Sansa opened her mouth in invitation. He accepted, letting their kiss deepen as he cupped the back of her neck to bring them even closer. Sansa breathed a sigh against him as her lids closed. Jon broke the kiss. “I am truly a great fool. Why would I deny us this?”

“I could not say,” she hummed before they kissed once more.

Jon gently pushed so she lay on the bed as he climbed up her, caging her in. “The promise we gave each other, I was so determined to keep it.” He kissed her, softly this time, before moving to kiss along her jaw to the spot beneath her lobe, grinning to himself as a whimper escaped her.

“You kept it, we both did.” Sansa grabbed at his scalp, forcing him back to her lips.

He obliged as he began to settle between her thighs. He felt Sansa’s hand’s stroke along his back, to his hips and up again before settling on his shoulders. Jon broke away from her embrace. “Patience, wife. I’m not done with you quite yet.” He began to kiss her neck, to her clavicle and ever lower. “I want a taste.”

“You have already broken your fast,” she teased. Even so, Sansa was pushing at him, urging him downwards.

Jon kissed through the valley of her breasts. “A sweet treat then.” He kissed her belly before nuzzling at her curls, letting himself take in her unique scent. He moved lower, shouldering her thighs apart. Jon kissed lightly at her center before licking and sucking, wrenching forth a series of musical sounds from her body. Almost too quickly, Sansa’s thighs wrapped themselves around his head as she began to buck against him. Jon slowed his rhythm, letting her come down from her peak. “Again,” he rasped. He began to work at her once more, applying pressure with the tip of his tongue as he licked at her. Sansa writhed against him, her moans growing ever louder. Too soon, he felt the now familiar push of her against his shoulder.

Jon drew away, wiping at his now sodden beard. “I will never tire of doing that.” He slowly climbed up her body, feeling like a wolf stalking its prey. Sansa’s eyes were hooded and a flush had spread down her neck and chest. “My wife looks positively debauched.”

She surprised him then as she wiped at her eyes.

“What is it?”

“You called me your wife. I’m sorry, I’m not used to it quite yet.”

“Best get used to it.” He reached between them, drawing his cock along the slick length of her before slowly pushing inside. His eyes rolled back at hearing her whimper. He grunted in response.

“Hurry, Jon,” she gasped.

He growled and began to thrust into her with ever growing ferocity. “Gods, Sansa, you feel so fucking good,” he bit out.

“Show me, Jon Snow.”

He lost it at that, pounding into her with abandon, as his awareness narrowed to the feel of his cock in her warm, slick heat. Jon gazed down at his wife, her blue eyes had turned dark with lust as they met his. He reached between them, determined to bring her to her peak once more.

Sansa began screaming his name as pleasure took her. He could feel her nails digging into his back. He quickly followed, spilling his seed into her with a loud roar before collapsing on top of her.

She wrapped her arms and legs around his body as they lay together in silence, their hearts slowing and breath returning to normal.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she sighed.

“Don’t get comfortable, we’re going to be doing that again very soon” He burrowed into the pillow of her breasts. “Oh, I’ll need the names of every man in the hall last night.”

Sansa quietly laughed. “And why would you be needing that?”

“So I can threaten every one of their damned lives.” He rose up to kiss his new wife.

**Author's Note:**

> So, Jon's a happy drunk. Who knew?


End file.
